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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27811546">the night of the icy promise</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/autumn_storms_and_coffee_rings/pseuds/autumn_storms_and_coffee_rings'>autumn_storms_and_coffee_rings</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wild Wild West (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, M/M, Mutual Pining, Self-Doubt, Sharing a Bed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 17:12:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,849</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27811546</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/autumn_storms_and_coffee_rings/pseuds/autumn_storms_and_coffee_rings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>If Artie was honest with himself, he knew two things for certain:  One, that James West was suffering from hypothermia. Two, that he loved James West.   </p><p>As he piled another saddle blanket onto their joined bedrolls, a thought crept into his mind unbidden: He can’t die because I wasn’t fast enough.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Artemus Gordon/James West</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>the night of the icy promise</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Artie worked efficiently to set up camp, keenly aware that every second mattered.  Each glance he spared in Jim’s direction left him with more cause for alarm.  </p><p>Several hours ago, Jim had tracked down a group of bandits to a dusty and deserted town.  Unfortunately for him they’d been forewarned of his impending arrival.  A bruising scuffle ensued, and Jim found himself unceremoniously dumped into a well and caught without his grappling hook.  It took long - too long - for Artie to locate and rescue him.  When Artie finally did get him out, Jim was soaked to the bone, but still looking unfairly handsome when he should have looked like a drowned rat.  Summer had finally relinquished it’s hold a few weeks ago, and the crisp autumn air had chilled the water in the well and seeped its way into Jim’s bones.</p><p>His damn horse had been waiting nearby, hiding behind a building.  As soon as Jim whistled, he’d come running.  <em> If only that horse could climb, Jim wouldn’t be half frozen to death </em>, Artie thought ruefully at the time.  </p><p>Though they weren’t in danger now, there wasn’t enough dry kindling to keep a decent fire going and the Wanderer was still too far away.  </p><p>If Artie was honest with himself, he knew two things for certain:  One, that James West was suffering from hypothermia. Two, that he loved James West.   </p><p>As he piled another saddle blanket onto their joined bedrolls, a thought crept into his mind unbidden: <em> He can’t die because I wasn’t fast enough. </em></p><p>Jim sat with his back against a tree, clutching a slightly damp blanket - Artie had unearthed it from thin air - around him and struggling to stay awake.  Artie had ordered him there when he’d stumbled after dismounting from his horse.  Despite his bronzed skin, his face was unnaturally pale in the moonlight.  He was shivering, and he tried and largely failed to keep his teeth from chattering. </p><p>As Artie glanced up from another fruitless attempt to stoke the fire, Jim caught his eye. </p><p>“I-I’m alright, Artie.  Just co-c-cold.”</p><p>Artie fixed Jim with a hard stare.  </p><p>“Oh, is that all?  Just a little cold?  Jim…,” Artie trailed off.  He walked over to Jim, stalling in an attempt to find the best way to break the news to his partner.</p><p>“Jim, listen - you’re exhibiting all the textbook symptoms of hypothermia.  Spending an hour or two in a well would do that.  And it didn’t help that your bumbling partner dawdled over finding you,” Artie spat out, guilt clawing at his throat. </p><p>“I’ve done the best I can with what we have.  Our humble abode for the evening is out of the wind, but the temperature is dropping fast,” he gestured around them at the still desert and crystalline night sky, “and we need to get you warm.”</p><p>Jim had limited options in this department.  He needed to get those wet clothes off.  Having no inkling that he’d find Jim trapped in a well, Artie hadn’t come prepared with a dry set of clothes.  And Artie suspected Jim would rather die from hypothermia than cuddle for warmth. </p><p>Artie ran a hand through his hair.  <em> I don’t know how to do this.  I can’t know what it’s like to hold him and then never be able to again. </em>  </p><p>Artie shook his head to clear his thoughts.  There was no time to deal with his sentimental heart.  </p><p>Kneeling down, Artie waited for Jim’s eyes to focus on him. </p><p>“Do you trust me, Jim?”</p><p>“’Course” Jim managed, looking indignant about having to provide such an obvious answer.</p><p>Artie nodded, blowing out a breath.  “We’ve gotta get your body temperature up, and sagebrush tea hasn’t done the trick,” he stopped there, hoping Jim would be able to connect the dots and he wouldn’t have to spell out the proposition. </p><p>The chattering of Jim’s teeth greeted him in response.  No such luck. </p><p>“That means getting off those wet clothes and, uh,” Artie mustered every ounce of courage, “getting exceptionally close.”</p><p>Jim blinked and his brow furrowed.</p><p>“Look, I know you’d prefer a woman to warm you up, but right now your only options are me or your horse.  Though I suspect most days you’d choose him over me.”</p><p>That drew a small grin from Jim.  He nodded, as if everything was settled.  Frozen fingers lifted slowly to fumble at buttons. </p><p>Artie swatted Jim’s frozen fingers away.  He needed out of those clothes hours ago.  “Let me.  Please.  Again, I know you’d prefer if a charming lady was helping you out of your clothes.  And before you suggested it, your horse doesn’t have fingers.”</p><p>Nimble fingers worked with care and precision to free Jim of his soggy clothes.  He did his best to take stock of Jim’s other injuries.  His partner was likely too numb to notice the mottled purple and blue bruises creeping over his chest and wrapping around his ribcage.  His fingers trailed lightly over Jim’s clammy skin, searching for fractures or breaks.   </p><p>Vivid cyan eyes followed the path his fingers traced, sending a shiver down Artie’s spine that had nothing to do with the autumnal crispness in the air.  Goosebumps blossomed on Jim’s skin in the wake of Artie’s touch.  He tamped down his foolish hope - the reaction had nothing to do with him and everything to do with the cold.</p><p>As he peeled the last sodden layer of clothing off of Jim, Artie gently nudged him, “Go ahead and get settled.  I’ll lay your clothes out and with any luck they’ll be mostly dry by morning.”</p><p>Figuring on giving Jim some privacy, Artie moved away to spread the damp clothes out to dry.  He used the time to steel himself for his next task - removing his own clothes.  </p><p>
  <strong>…………………………………………………………………..</strong>
</p><p>Peeved with his body’s betrayal, Jim’s irritation and guilt over his helplessness melted away as Artie tended to him.  </p><p>Jim rose unsteadily to his feet.  With faltering steps, Jim found his way to the bedrolls carefully laid out near the small fire.  </p><p>Despite being trapped in a well, Jim had never panicked.  He knew Artie would find him in the same way he knew the sun rose in the east. </p><p>Urgency defined their line of work.  Survival was never a given.  </p><p>In some ways, this made things simple.  There was no room for hesitation.  Most decisions boiled down to a choice between now or never. </p><p>Urgency translated into recklessness for Jim. </p><p>Urgency translated into worry for Artie. </p><p>Jim watched the worry wash over Artie in waves as he worked to set up camp.  His care and affection for Jim was evident in every move, every touch, every word.  </p><p>Jim knew those emotions well.  They were the same ones he felt for Artie.  </p><p>If Jim was honest with himself, he knew two things for certain:  One, that he was suffering from hypothermia. Two, that he loved Artemus Gordon.   </p><p>Yet every instinct within him told him to run, to flee, to evade.  The possibility that his love was unrequited niggled in the back of his mind.  Of all the things he had endured, he was unsure of his chances of surviving that.  <em> I don’t know how to do this.  I can’t know what it’s like to hold him and then never be able to again. </em> </p><p>A sudden flood of heat near his right side shook Jim from his thoughts.  Artie scrambled under the blankets as quickly as possible, pulling them up to his chin and settling stiffly on his back. </p><p>The silence spoke volumes.  The tension and worry drifted off of Artie’s body in ripples.  Jim wanted more than anything to take the uncertainty away, but his mind was too frozen to form coherent thoughts and his stubborn lips were too cold to form words anyway.  </p><p>Frustrated, Jim forced his frozen body to move.  </p><p>He scooted closer to Artie, wrapping an arm around his stomach and pressing his cold nose into the crook of Artie’s neck.  </p><p>Startled by this uncharacteristic display of affection, Artie dared not push his luck.  Holding his breath, he did his best not to wince when frigid skin touched his. </p><p>A few moments passed in silence.  Sensing no thaw in the tension that kept it’s icy grip on Artie, Jim urged his lips to move. </p><p>“Mmmphhh,” Jim mumbled, his breath tickling Artie’s neck. </p><p>“Come again?”</p><p>Jim sighed, and shifted ever so slightly, so that his head was resting on Artie’s chest, the steady <em> thump thump thump </em> of Artie’s heart in his ear.  </p><p>“Y-y-you’re wrong, Artie.”</p><p>“Jim, I am many things, but wrong is never one of them.  Especially when it comes to scientific fact.  And skin to skin contact is necessary when -”</p><p>“Don’t want a woman, Artie.  Want you.”</p><p>Jim could hear Artie’s heart begin to race. </p><p>“Jim - I -,” Artie broke off, struggling to control the range of emotions flickering over his face.   He took a deep breath before continuing, “You need rest, Jim -”</p><p>Using every ounce of energy he still possessed, Jim heaved his weight up on his hands, trapping Artie underneath him. </p><p>Lips like ice met his own, taking Artie’s breath away.  Jim poured every ounce of himself into the kiss; Artie could feel his certainty, as if Jim’s very survival depended on it.</p><p>Artie came to his senses just in time to return the kiss before Jim pulled away.   </p><p>Looking pleased, Jim settled back down onto the bedrolls.  Flinging one chilly arm over his partner, Jim pressed his face back into the crook of Artie’s neck.  Giving into his exhaustion, he promptly drifted off to sleep.</p><p>After a few moments of stunned silence, Artie pressed a kiss onto his forehead, whispering, “James, my boy, you won’t remember that in the morning, but I’ll never forget it.” </p><p>
  <strong>…………………………………………………………………..</strong>
</p><p>Jim awoke to tangled limbs and warm skin.  Memories came back in flashes - fists, falling, water, damp, Artie, freezing, pain, Artie, Artie, <em> Artie </em>.  </p><p>As if summoned, Artie woke with a start, looking for all the world like a man who wanted to sneak away. </p><p>A small smirk formed on Jim’s lips.  He opted to feign sleep. </p><p>Peeling back the blankets, Artie sat up and cast about wildly for his clothes.  </p><p>An arm tightened around him like a steel trap, forcing him back down.  Suddenly, Jim was in his face. </p><p>“Well,” Artie’s musical voice rose to a higher octave than usual, “someone must be feeling better.”</p><p>“I suppose you think I don’t remember.”</p><p>“Remember what, Jim?”</p><p>“You know what.”</p><p>Artie blinked at Jim, with one quizzical eyebrow raised. </p><p>“I meant it, Artie.  I promise.” </p><p>“Meant what?”</p><p>Jim rolled his eyes and lowered down, closing the distance between them. </p><p>This kiss wasn’t nearly as icy, but it was every bit as honest, every bit as urgent as the first. </p><p>Jim pulled away slowly.  “That’s what I meant, Artie.”</p><p>“Oh.  I, uh -”</p><p>“And I’ll race you to the Wanderer so we can continue this somewhere more comfortable.”</p><p>Jim grinned broadly, and launched himself from the bedrolls towards his clothes. </p><p>Artie stared dumbfounded.  A grin crept across his face, and he bolted towards his clothes and his horse, eager to explore this new promise. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>well, that took way too long to write!  writer's block, burnout, and an understaffed office conspired against me.  and this isn't the longer fic that was promised; this is more like a detour fic. </p><p>i'm hoping to devote myself to the longer one over the winter break from academia. </p><p>i'm not sure what inspired this, other than hoping to find someone who will stay by my side even if i'm uselessly shivering against a tree. </p><p>many thanks to @Celestial_Alignment for encouraging me to continue writing.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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